


Break These Walls

by ficdirectory



Category: The Fosters (TV 2013)
Genre: Gen, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Nightmares, Parent-Child Relationship, Protective Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-16
Updated: 2014-07-16
Packaged: 2020-01-01 02:15:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18326630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficdirectory/pseuds/ficdirectory
Summary: A reaction fic to episode 2x05, "Truth Be Told"





	Break These Walls

It’s quiet. Voices are muffled. A little distant. But the Most Important Voice is calm and constant - even when other sounds are big and scary.

No matter what is going on, it’s safe now. And that’s all that matters.

–

Stef lets herself in. It’s late, but a light’s on in the kitchen. She squints, feeling it in her gut. Something’s not right.

She braces herself. Walks in and finds no one there. It’s empty. A mess. Like dinner was rushed and happened in shifts where no one really cleaned up after themselves. Or like the last person to come through for food was Jesus, who had a way of leaving messes in his wake.

For a while, she stands there. Breathes. Because she can feel it. It’s more than just the kitchen.

She walks into the living room and finds Lena awake and waiting up for her.

“Where were you?” she asks.

Stef answers that question with one of her own: “What’s wrong?”

Lena pats the couch next to her. The truth is all over her face, in the lines of stress around her mouth. In the pain reflected in her eyes. “I need you to stay calm.”

“Is it the kids? Jude?”

“It’s Brandon. Honey, I need you to stay calm.”

“What? What is it? Is he okay? Is it his hand?”

“I picked him up from the woodshed today… He told me he ate a pot brownie…and he was really nervous…so I walked around with him until he calmed down…”

“Pot. So he’s doing drugs now?” Stef exclaims. “Are you kidding me?” She sighs. “So…what…we ground him until he’s eighteen. Right? We have to. I swear, if it wasn’t eleven o'clock at night, I’d be in his room giving him a piece of my mind. He knows the dangers. He’s seen it in his dad…in Ana…”

“Stef.”

She stops in her tracks where she has begun to pace.

“Sit down. Please.”

Dread settles in Stef’s gut like a stone. She sits. “What?” she asks lightly. “Don’t tell me there’s more?”

“Brandon…kept talking to me about…guilt. About how one mistake can ruin a person’s life.”

“Lena, please don’t tell me he got some girl pregnant… Because I cannot be a mother and a grandmother.”

“Honey. Please…” Lena says. No, not says. She’s begging. There are tears in her eyes.

Stef forces herself to be quiet. Grasps Lena’s hand and holds on tightly. Looks at her, taking in all the pain, trying to guess, but unable to.

“He said he slept with Dani…” Lena confesses, her voice barely a whisper.

“I’m sorry?” Stef’s mind is sluggish, refusing to compute at anything faster than a plod. Her thoughts go from seeing Dani at work talking to her about checking up on Mike “for Brandon.” To following him. To finding him with Ana. When all along it wasn’t Mike she needed to be worried about.

She’s nauseous. “Is he okay? I mean, of course he’s not okay. But how did he seem.”

“Nervous. He’s afraid of what it’ll mean. How it will affect Mike. He’s afraid of your reaction.”

“I would have believed him–”

“I know that. He does, too. He said he thought you’d kill Dani…”

“Well, he’s not wrong…” Stef mutters, pulling her hand away.

“What do you want to do?” Lena asks.

“I want to talk to my son.”

–

Brandon’s never eating another brownie. He wasn’t a fan of them in the first place, and this one just proves why. You can hide too many things in brownies. He can’t trust that. Can’t trust them.

A knock sounds at his bedroom door. “Yeah?” he calls. It’s probably Mama. She’s been so cool about this entire thing. But he’s nervous about what she might have to say about the whole Dani situation.

She never actually said she wouldn’t tell.

And the minute he sees his mom’s face…he knows she knows.

Brandon feels like throwing up.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he apologizes. “I didn’t mean to. Please don’t be mad.”

She doesn’t say anything. Just sits beside him on the bed and wraps her arms around him. Just holds him. He’s so relieved. But knows it’s not as easy as all this. He knows he’s wrecked everything. There’s no going back.

“This is not your fault,” she tells him, her voice tight with tears. “Understand?”

“I ate a pot brownie.”

“I know, love. We’ll talk about that later. Listen to me. This isn’t your fault. She hurt you. She’s the adult. Any shame or guilt about what happened? That belongs to her.”

“So…you still love me?”

“Of course, B. Nothing could stop me from loving you. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I was drunk.”

“It was not your fault.”

“I just don’t want anybody to know….”

“We’re keeping this between me and Mama, but your dad has to know.”

“No…”

“Nothing’s happening tonight. Okay? I promise. And I am so sorry…”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine. We’re gonna get you help. It’s gonna be okay.”

–

For someone who can’t talk, Jude’s making a lot of noise. He keeps knocking into things, moving around in the dark. Jesus wonders if he sleepwalks.

Jude’s usually out by now. Sleeping right away at night and up right away when the alarm goes off. Jesus is the opposite. He can’t fall asleep until at least midnight. And in the mornings, the alarm has no affect. Jude usually yells at him to wake him up.

That didn’t happen yesterday morning. And thankfully, Mariana screamed in his ear to make sure he didn’t sleep too late. He’s so mad at her.

There’s a crash and Jesus sits up. “Jude. Dude. What are you doing?” he asks before he remembers Jude’s not gonna say anything. “We should have, like, a code or something. You know Morse code?”

Silence.

“You do it with a flashlight. I know you got one over there. Flash once if you’re cool.”

Jesus is instantly almost blinded as the beam from Jude’s flashlight shines right in his eyes. He blinks and by the time his eyes have adjusted to the dark again, Jude’s gone.

–

Mariana jerks awake to a light shining in her eyes. “What?” she asks, her voice hoarse. She turns on her bedside lamp and sees Jude standing there.

“What do you need, Judicorn? You okay?” she asks, feeling awful that he still feels like he can’t talk. There’s silence, and Mariana tries to think. He’d been sticking close to Callie before bed.

“She’s okay, see?” Mariana nods toward the bed in the corner where Callie’s sleeping.

Jude still stands close to Mariana’s bed. He has a flashlight. For the first time, though, Mariana notices the pillow he holds, and the stuffed bear that their moms got him, with a heads up from Callie. He used to have a bear like it when they first came into care, but it got stolen. Somehow, Callie had found a new one, exactly like the one Jude had. Their moms gave it to him on the night of the adoption party. He sleeps with it every night.

“You wanna sleep in here?” she guesses. “You totally can. Here, let me get you another blanket.”

When Mariana comes back, with her favorite cozy blanket in hand, she’s surprised to find Jude in her bed. She wants to snap at him, but it’s late, and they’re supposed to lower his stress level. If this makes him feel better, she should let him do it.

“Can I have your bed?” she asks softly, half-joking, as she covers him with the blanket.

She doesn’t miss it when he nods.

“Okay. Night. Love you.”

–

“Mariana?” Lena calls, when her bedroom door is pushed open to reveal her daughter on the other side.

This is officially the longest night she’s known in years. Definitely since the twins were little. Stef’s been in with Brandon, and Lena won’t interrupt, but she wants to be awake when Stef comes back, to see what she wants to do. And be there, if she needs to talk. Plus, she wants to know where Stef was all night. Her shift was supposed to end at five, and she hadn’t shown up til hours later. Something must’ve come up, but there hasn’t been time to talk about it. What Lena wouldn’t give for more hours in the day. And more at night, so she can sleep and wake up rested.

“Can I sleep in here?” Mariana asks.

“Of course. Anytime,” Lena says, patting the bed. Her other arm is protectively around her baby. It’s her first pregnancy, and though Stef talks about being pregnant with Brandon as if there’s nothing to it, Lena isn’t so sure. She’s tired. And she’s been feeling a little…off. But between Brandon’s disclosure and making sure Jude’s stress-level is down, there’s no time to keep her own down.

Mariana crawls into bed beside Lena and makes a face. Stef’s side is flat while Lena’s is raised. “This bed sucks.”

“Hey.”

“It’s no good for cuddling.”

“That’s what Mom says.” She pauses. “Everything okay?”

“Oh, yeah. Jude came in. He wanted to sleep in my bed, and I don’t want to sleep anywhere near Jesus, so…”

“Did Jude seem okay?”

“Yeah, I think he just wants to be near Callie. Where is Mom? She’s not still at work, is she?”

“No. She’s talking to Brandon. You’re a good sister, you know that.”

“Well…I’m trying to be better anyway. So maybe by the time this one comes along,” she says gesturing to Lena’s stomach, “I’ll be able to set a good example. So have you thought anymore about names? Because now that you know it’s a girl, I’ve been thinking…”

“Yes?”

“What about Katniss?”

Lena raises her eyebrows. “You want to name your sister after a plant?”

“No! After a strong female character. She can hunt, she’s super smart, she protects her family, she does the right thing even when it’s hard. Why wouldn’t we name her that?”

“Katniss Adams Foster,” Lena tries, smiling. She leans over and kisses Mariana’s cheek. “Thank you for the suggestion. I’m adding it to the list. And I’ll have to run it by Mom.”

“Wait. You have a list? Who else made suggestions?”

“Well, I have my ideas…Mom has hers…and Jude came to me after we cleaned the garage, and said since the baby was going to be a girl, we should name her Zelda.”

“You’re not going to, are you?” Mariana asks, looking worried. “I mean, I love Jude, but that’s not a name for a baby…”

“You…should get some sleep,” Lena encourages.

“Good night,” Mariana replies and then whispers to Lena’s stomach, “Good night, in there. I love you.”

“She loves you, too,” Lena responds.

“Yay… Wake me up when Mom comes in. I’ll move to Jude’s bed,” Mariana promises, snuggling down into the blankets.

“You and Jesus can get along?”

“He’s okay when he’s sleeping. I don’t make any promises tomorrow when I have to scream him awake.”

“Yeah, give us a heads up so I can put headphones on my belly.”

–

Callie wakes up gasping and fighting. She can’t scream. Hadn’t been able to then, either. She’d thought going to court and confronting Liam would help. That she’d be able to move on. Instead, if anything, her nightmares are worse. Her panic. And ever since she thought she saw him at work, her heart rate hasn’t quite gone back to normal.

She looks across the room and sees Mariana’s bed empty. Belatedly, she registers there’s stuff in bed with her that she didn’t put there.

A blue flashlight.

Jude’s bear.

It’s then that she feels a hand slip into hers and glances down. Jude’s curled on the floor beside her bed.

His being there is a comfort. Jude was the only one who had lived in that house. Who knew Liam the same way she did. The way he could be so nice one minute and so scary the next.

If there’s one thing she’s grateful for, it’s that Liam never touched Jude.

Jude was actually the first person Callie ever told. It meant the world that he believed her. That he went everywhere with her after he knew, so that Liam wouldn’t have a chance to get her alone.

He’s been doing that tonight. Ever since she told him about thinking she saw him at work. Because he gets it. Because even though Brandon and Stef and Lena know, Jude was there.

She chokes back a sob and buries her face in Jude’s bear.

From the floor, he squeezes her hand.

–

Not talking is harder than people think. Because Jude wants to. He just can’t. Every time he even thinks about trying? He just freezes. The words are there. He just can’t let his guard down enough to say them.

It’s safer to not say anything.

To not talk about how the only thing scarier than he and Callie not having a family is him having one and Callie not having one. Because that means anything can happen.

She can get taken away. That already happened, and it was the worst to have to stay behind. To not know what was happening to her. Or, she can decide she likes her real dad and Sophia better than him. She can maybe decide she wants to live with them. She’s not adopted yet. And her real dad’s the one stopping it. Maybe he wants her. Maybe Callie wants them. Maybe she’d rather be Sophia’s sister…not his sister…

Even when everything else in his life was changing, Jude always had Callie. She promised to be there. But maybe now that he’s adopted, the promise is over…

That doesn’t mean he won’t be there for Callie when she needs him, though. Family does things like that for each other, even if they’re mad. Or scared. Besides, Jude knows what it’s like to have nightmares.

Before he went to Callie and Mariana’s room, he’d been dreaming, too. Probably because Mama was talking to him about Connor’s dad. About feeling bad about him living with all that judgement. And Jude did feel bad, but he also knew what it was like.

He remembered getting beat up by his last foster dad before coming here. The one who always beat up Callie. She always protected him, and never let him hurt Jude. Except that one time, she wasn’t fast enough. Jude still remembers the names he was called. How scared he was. How he thought he might get killed. He was only twelve, and really small, and the guy was really big. If Callie hadn’t done something, Jude was sure he would’ve gotten really hurt. Worse than bruises.

Anyway, he was dreaming about that when he woke up and got all his stuff in the dark to come in here. To be here for Callie, just like he was before when she needed him.

The truth is…he really needs her, too. It’s scary to be screaming in a dream and wake up and you can’t make any sound.

The kids at school are worse now that Jude can’t defend himself. And some of the teachers still expect Jude to read aloud, even though Mama sent them an email about not pressuring him.

Therapy makes him feel different. More different than he already feels.

He used to like it. Kind of. Because it was safe. And he could say anything in there and not worry about getting in trouble. (Because the only way you could get in trouble in therapy is if you talked about hurting yourself or somebody else and Jude never wanted to do that.)

But what kind of safety is it when Jude can’t say anything?

They tried painting today, but Jude was scared to put anything on paper. His therapist kept saying whatever he wanted to do was okay. And encouraging him to pick a color. But he didn’t want to. He has never liked being watched. And he knows that since he can’t talk, all that’s left to do is for him to be watched.

He remembers going quiet other times. When he first started preschool. And when their mom died when he was six. No one treated him different those times. But when he lived in some of the other foster homes, sometimes he had to stand in the corner if he didn’t talk. Sometimes they tried to make him talk.

He still doesn’t know what happened to help him talk again all those other times. He thinks maybe it was Callie.

So he keeps holding her hand, hoping that if he does, maybe, she’ll never leave him.


End file.
